


Marigolds and Gloxinias

by silent_rage



Series: A Bundle Of My Children's Stories [5]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, No beta we die like Thatch, Other, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, am i going to make this as angsty as i can?, flowers appear when soulmate is hurt, flowers stay if it scars, i hope so, look - Freeform, probs gonna be a lot of OOC characters, this is just an indulgence, this...this means im gonna have to look over flower language i-, will i succeed?, yes - Freeform, you kinda gotta with thatch he's dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27723439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silent_rage/pseuds/silent_rage
Summary: The small flowers that dotted her wrists and hands were a constant in her life, always appearing but never staying. Some did, scattered on her fingers and a certain one on her inner wrist she liked to touch.The flowers were neverending on his body, new ones littered over the faded. They were on his arms, his stomach, his back, everywhere. Most stayed, but none were as vibrant as the one taking over his left cheek.i accidentALLY POSTED THIS????????????????? WHEN?????????first chapters not complete T^T
Relationships: Thatch & Whitebeard Pirates, Thatch (One Piece) & Original Female Character(s), Thatch (One Piece)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: A Bundle Of My Children's Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953616
Kudos: 2





	Marigolds and Gloxinias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...............;;  
> this is like the second time I accidentally posted a book i-
> 
> so I guess??? enjoy the not-completed chapter???? if you liked it so far???? ill update this when it's actually finished but lmao

❝ _Our universe grants every soul a twin - a reflection of themselves - the kindred spirit – And no matter where they are or how far away they are from each other - even if they are in different dimensions, they will always find one another. This is destiny; this is love. ❞_

_\- Karen Ross_

* * *

Soulmates weren't rare, but they were also uncommon. Not everyone had them, but enough did that no one bat an eye if a flower suddenly bloomed on someone's skin or care if their friend reread books about flowers over and over again to the point of memorization. Soulmates had been here for the history of their time, back to when the firsts humans came - or, that's what's to be theorized. Even as many people had them, soulmates were truly still an anomaly that's just been accepted into society. It's normal, harmless, even sought out to some who desired it but never got it. 

Quinn did not desire it yet had still gotten it.

There wasn't anything _inherently_ bad with the flowers that blossomed whenever your soulmate got hurt. It didn't hurt her and it's only there to tell her if her soulmate got hurt, but...well. It was the flowers that _stayed_ that got her in trouble and even then they took a day to fade and that was already bad enough. Her dad says they are a bad look to her name, that her body is littered with filthy imperfections that should have never been there in the first place. There weren't many that stayed, but she could not hide the ones that wrapped around her wrists and hands in small red and white flowers known as Gloxinia. He hated those ones the most. 

She didn't. She didn't really understand the meaning, but it somehow gave her warmth every time a new one appeared. Initially, when she first found out she had a soulmate when she was younger, she was excited, but that was beat out of her the moment her dad found out. Now, she still didn't mind she was one of the many to have one, but - putting aside the small warmth that bloomed in her chest when another flower appeared - she was indifferent to it. 

Her brother, Ryan, didn't have a soulmate. It also wasn't a bad thing, having or not having one meant little, but it was the reason their dad favored him a little more. Which, _was_ bad as much as it was good in their case. He didn't express any want for one and had at one point told her he was glad he didn't have one: his body was covered in scars as it is, he didn't want flowers to be added to the list. She didn't disagree, it was already hard enough to accept that her soulmate was going to be stuck with her flowers. 

Quinn didn't often think about who her soulmate was going to be. Gender didn't matter to her, not since she'd turned 16, nor what they looked like. As long as they weren't too old or young and they weren't abusive. Those were the ground rules she came up with when she just became an adult, but that's about where her thoughts stayed. Maybe when she was younger she'd do it, but for now, there was no point in fantasies and scenarios: there was no time for that in the life she was handed. 

She couldn't _not_ care for her soulmate; she didn't think anyone could. Maybe it was because they were born with their souls intertwined, but she found herself reserving a spot for them in her heart. As guarded and small as it was, she couldn't deny that it wasn't there. She most likely knew she'd never meet them, and her hope wasn't very high in the first place, and often times it hurt her to know that spot would forever stay empty, but it was there and it wasn't going to ever go away. She's never told anyone it's there, not even Ryan, too scared if she did it would grow bigger because that meant she was hoping for the possibility that they'd meet. But she wasn't. She cut that feeling down at the bud, clipping a flower before it even had the chance to grow.

She wouldn't know what to do if she even _did_ meet her soulmate.

What _would_ she do?

*

"Quinn."

It was her brother's voice, that smooth, deep vibrato that always brought her comfort. Looking away from her half-eaten plate, she rose her head just as her dad's colleague turned her away, a question already forming on his lips. She held in a sigh but tilted her head in acceptance anyway. It was most likely a question that wasn't really directed to her, but a way to try and please her parent. 

"So, Quinn, I hear that you're going to give a speech at your father's campaign? I'm sure you must have wonderful things to say about all the great things he's done!"

Quinn felt he was overdoing it, but didn't all old men do that? It was a cycle every time she was forced to attend these dinners, so she knew the drill of it all by now. Didn't stop her from internally cringing from the fakeness in his voice or the way the heavy, puffy bags under that man's eyes seemed to bulge as he tried to get his real point across. Still, she knew. So, putting on an equally fake smile - but hiding it pretty well if she did say so herself - and gestured to her dad without looking at him with her fork. 

"Oh, yes! I actually just got done finishing it before we came here and now all I've got to finish is memorizing it. I didn't make it too long, I wouldn't want to take over the event and I'm sure all of his amazing deeds will be shared throughout it all."

Seeming pleased, the man leaned back, fixing his dark blue suit before redirecting his gaze to her dad. Quinn, just happy that was over - not that it didn't happen over and over throughout the dinner, looked back down to her steak, fork slowly pushing the mashed potatoes before scooping it up and eating it. It was good, probably the best mashed potatoes she's ever eaten, really. Hopefully, they come back to this restaurant when she has to come to another dinner. The only good thing about being here is the food. That and they were relatively ignored besides the common questions and short small talk they had to do. Still hated going, but she could live with it.

And God, that stupid speech! Ryan or she was either chosen to do a speech whenever it came to these kinds of things. Not every time, but enough to make her dread it with a burning passion. It was live and everything - as if her face wasn't public _enough_. As if her face didn't bring enough criticism, either. As if she didn't feel enough shame as it is. Just imagining the close-up view they're gonna have made her want to hide, knowing full well they're going to do everything in their power to get her bad side. The speech was rather long, too. She didn't write it, they never do, and it was to be said in the middle of the event where everyone's at their pique interest. 


End file.
